Robin and the Commish
by 3DPhantom
Summary: Commissioner Gordon cares about what happens to the young Robin. Dick Grayson considers Gordon a friend. These one-shots are simply because Gordon is an awesome character & the possibilities for interesting stories between him & our beloved Robin are endless! Mostly angst, some fun & happy chapters later. Team sometimes included. Rated T: PURELY PLATONIC! I TAKE STORY SUGGESTIONS!
1. One-Shot 1: Independence Day

A/N: For this little series of One-Shots, it's slightly AU-ish because of how I have Commissioner Gordon's life running. I am very familiar with his life's story, but in order to make these one-shots work, it's a little miss-matched. Nothing noticeable unless you're A) obsessed with Gordon like I am or B) Squint really, really hard, and do some research. It's nothing to worry about, just letting you guys know because I know somebody out there would have made a comment about it. Situations can vary between One-Shots, but it really doesn't matter.

Imagine the Young Justice TV series Robin, 13 years old. That's how I see him here and that's how I set his personality in this story. The team themselves will be in some of the one-shots.

Also… I do not own Young Justice. All DC Universe references rightfully belong to my Bros, AKA: The Warner Brothers, and whomever else helps them make the comics, shows, etc.

Now, on with the story!

**One-Shot #1 Title: Independence Day**

The fourth of July is a none-to-happy date for the dynamic duo. Believe it or not, but most people in Gotham tend to ignore firework restrictions, particularly the bad guys. And Bane, you see, liked his explosives. Nicely enough, Joker though it would be too unoriginal to make a show on the fourth of July so there would be none of him tonight.

That was okay though, Bane was plenty enough to handle on top of the burning buildings. Just as another building came down, Robin spread his cape like wings and tumbled out, a young man and woman beneath the cover of his fire-proof cape. Hopefully, that had been everyone.

"T-Thank you!" The young man, about 23 years old, said through tears. Robin nodded politely and took off for another burning building. There had been, in fact, a total of three large-scale fires so far that night. Hopefully, with the un-Godly hour of three weaning, the fireworks would be put to rest soon.

Batman, like the glory hog he was (as far as Robin saw it) was out fighting like a real hero should. He sent Robin to the burning buildings while the Batman himself got to fight Bane. When the headlines came around tomorrow, who do you think will be on the front? Not the always-expected fires or our colorful bird.

_'__I don't really mind the fact that Bruce has a super ego and likes (though he won't admit it) to be on the front of newspapers. What I can't stand' _Robin thought bitterly _'is the undeniable truth that Batman sent me to take care of the fires NOT because someone had to, NOT because of just his ego, but because he didn't want me fighting in the big leagues with him! I've fought Bane plenty of times! But, time after time, he always jumps at the chance to keep me out of the bigger fights.'_

Robin glared at a smoldering building bellow. Not in surprised, but more like 'chalantly,' Robin stared at the burning orphanage below, _The _Orphanage of Gotham. _'Great…'_

Robin's heart beat quickened as the building groaned and a section of the third floor collapsed. Fearing that there may still be children inside, and almost certain that there are, Robin glided down and into a third floor window.

The walls were ablaze, both dizzyingly bright and darkly dangerous at the same time. A scream echoed through the third floor, and so Robin turned on his heels and ran to the source of the outcry. In a room just besides the corner that collapsed in was a small boy, no older than five or six. He cowered in the corner, screaming every time the fire came to close or more roof fell to his feet.

_'__If he had been in the room right to the left of this one.' _Robin shuddered inwardly, knowing that it would have been a certain death for the boy.

"Are there any others on this floor?" Robin asked as he lifted the boy and carried him to the safer hallway.

"I…" The younger boy paused to sniffle as Robin set him down and pulled him with a gentle hand. "I don't thinks so. The adults came and took the others down." Robin nodded his understanding, but still checked the rooms as they went by. The stairs appeared to be safe, so the two boys cautiously made their way down. Robin could hear sirens outside now, and by looking through a second-story window could see two police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck.

The child Robin had been gently leading down stairs began to cry heavily and seemed incapable of standing. He fell to his knees and sobbed great crocodile tears. "I-I…" The boy sobbed, "I…want…my…blankie!" The young brown-haired boy sobbed harder and was refusing to stand. Robin (secretly being an orphan himself) understood what the boy must feel. That blankie may be the only thing the small boy has left from a better life. A life before Gotham's cruel fate. However, this kid wasn't going to survive if Robin didn't do something fast, and going back for a blanket wasn't an option. The smoke of the second floor was gathering quickly, and Robin still didn't know if there were others inside the building. But, one task at a time, so…

"Hey kid," Robin said as he leant down with a warm smile on his face. The boy opened his teary eyes to look at the brightly colored hero. "Do you like fire trucks?" The boy stared at him for a moment before nodding somberly. "I don't have your blanket, but I'll let you hold this," Robin said as he set the corner of his cape in the boy's hand "and I'll take you to see a great big, red fire truck. Okay?" The small child nodded eagerly and clutched the black and bright yellow cloth in his hand. He stood shakily and followed Robin down more stairs.

The bottom floor was almost completely set ablaze, and the front door had completely caved in. Seeing no other choice, Robin wrapped himself and the boy in his protective cape and jumped through the first floor window, flames following them out as the fire met fresh oxygen. There were instantly medics there, and before any of them could get their hands on him, Robin dove back into the building the same way he left it.

Robin checked the second floor, finding no one present. While Robin was checking the last room on the second floor, a sudden rocking shook the building and the whole thing threatened to collapse. Smoke had filled the air and forced Robin to slip on his mask to help him breathe easier.

He soon found that going back down the stairs was impossible, so he instead found a hole in the floor that had been created by the last rocking of the building. He glanced around the first floor with careful attention.

There was a small kitchen in the corner to his right and, unlike the other floors, this floor had only the very large room with different sections. There were only two doors. The front door, which as previously mentioned was no longer existent, and another door that had a large fallen support beam holding it closed. This door didn't look like it went anywhere in particular, so Robin had to guess that it went to a basement. Gotham orphanages tended to have basements, in case of break-ins or maniac bombings. The normal Gotham works.

Robin couldn't risk using an explosive to move the large support beam of concrete that had lodged itself in front of the door because an explosion at this point could send the whole building down. Instead, he carefully positioned himself under it, hoping that it wouldn't decide to slip suddenly and fall on him, and pushed upwards. Flames licked at his neck and side as he tried to lift the concrete pillar. At first, it didn't seem like it was going to budge, but after a brute force of strength he applied, meaning all the strength his small body had, it did move. It wasn't like he lifted it, per say. More like he shifted it so that it could tumble away. Not before applying a great weight onto him, but he managed to let it roll aside.

He opened the door cautiously. There were no flames, only concrete stairs leading down to a basement, like Robin had expected. He cautiously made his way down, still feeling no heat, but instead nice cool air. Turning the corner, he could see now that the room had three occupants.

One a young woman, only about twenty or so. And the other two were children. One girl was coughing and breathing regularly from an inhaler, about twelve years old. The other, a young boy. By young, he meant of course only two years older than the Boy Wonder himself. A fifteen year old boy who also happened to be seated in a wheelchair.

_'__Okay…' _Robin thought _'what now? Three people, two kids. One immobilized.'_

Robin took off his mask and walked over to the little girl with the pigtails. "Hi there," he said with a big smile. "You want to get out of here?" She nodded. "Alright then. Take this, it'll help you breathe easy." He gently positioned the mask onto her face and tightened it so that it wouldn't fall off.

"Mr. Robin, don't you need it?" He shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, kay? You and Ms. Here are going to go out together, okay? There are people waiting outside to help you once you're out." She and the woman nodded. He took his cape off and draped it over the woman. "It's resistant to flames. Cover yourselves and go out the window to the left of the door." She nodded and he took them to the door that lead to the first floor.

"Thank you," the woman whispered before going off towards the window. She disappeared beyond the flames and Robin could only trust that she and the girl would make it.

"Alright, your turn." He turned to the boy in the wheelchair who, to Robin's dismay, was glaring at him.

"You should just leave me here," the teen said. He sounded… pissed off, really.

"Tsk, as if kid. Like I'm going to leave you here." Robin came over to him and lifted him out of the chair, holding him bridal style.

"Who are you calling a kid, birdy? I'm probably five years older than you!"

"Two!" Robin complained. "Like two years, max!" He said, sufficiently distracting the boy until they made it to the entrance of the flames.

"So, what now, hero?" He glared daggers at the younger teen. "You should just leave me here for God's sake! You're going to get yourself killed over me! I'm not worth it. Here in Gotham, cripples aren't exactly worth much. I've got to die some time." This kid was starting to sound legitimately depressing, and Robin wasn't liking it.

"Dude, you're SO killing the asterous moment here." The older gave him a strange look that Robin gladly ignored. Robin sighed. "If I thought like you, I'd be dead by now too, so just, like shut up and…" He didn't finish as the building shook again.

_'__Crap. Well, guess there's no time left to think anymore.' _Not caring much about what would have to happen to him next, Robin ran out into the flames.

**oXoXo Commissioner Gordon's POV oXoXo**

The kid, Robin, dropped an orphan boy off with us and, just like his mentor would often do, dove right back into the burning building.

"Why aren't we getting people in there to help him?!" I demanded. A Fire Fighter took a moment to answer.

"Sorry Commissioner, but we haven't been given the clear. The building's too unstable. Any guys we send in would be at too great of a risk!" I could see why Batman and Robin worked out of the law. They didn't have restrictions. If I was told not to go in, I couldn't. So, here I have to stand while that poor kid was inside, saving any people he could find. Sure enough, five minutes later, two more came out.

An adult; blond woman. And a young girl with asthma. The girl wore what I recognized as a gas mask, most likely given to her by the Boy Wonder, and they were both draped in Robin's fireproof cape. But he didn't come out with them. Why?

"Please!" The woman begged. "Two boys are still in there!" The officers and paramedics were trying to calm her down. "Please, Robin and Mike are still in there!"

Moments later, the building began to shake again. Someone tumbled, or more like was thrown through the window. A kid rolled on the ground and tried to stand frantically, his legs not moving. He stared back at the building in panic.

Sure enough, I watched as the building's top floors came tumbling down. Flames still spilled from the rubble. The bottom floor only semi-collapsed and the walls all still stood, along with half of the roof. The floor of the first floor seemed to crumble as well, leaving walls with half a roof and a burning inferno, no longer a second or third floor distinguishable. I turned to the fire fighters.

"And what about now? Can't we get anyone in there to help him?!" The men looked at me sadly, clearly meaning no.

"I'm sorry. It's still too dangerous. As long as the walls and roof remain of the first floor and as long as the fire burns, anyone in there is in danger."

"And what about the kid who's in there?!" I sighed heavily. I guess, when it came down to it, no one could save him.

At least, not without breaking the rules. I had never been one to disobey orders, but this once I'll have to make a rather large exception. It was, after all, the least I could do for the kid.

I had a number programed in my phone. Specifically given to me by Batman in case I really needed to contact him. The number would only be good once, though I assume that Batman will just give me another number.

I made the call. As the phone was 'picked up' I only heard a grunt over the line, telling me that Batman was at least listening.

"I hope you appreciate this someday. You might want to come get your partner, if he's alive. Burning building on Second Street. Might want to hurry." I hung up the phone, feeling that nothing more was required. Then I made a run for the burning building.

Several people called my name as I went in through a hole in the left wall, but none of them came in after me, and none had been fast enough to keep me from entering.

Now all I had to do was find the thirteen year old boy amongst the flames. And, of course, hope that he's still alive.

**oXoXo Third Person POV oXoXo**

His lungs burned, hot fluid seeping its way through his mouth and boiling away in the heat of the flames below him. Somehow, and, almost luckily, he had found himself pinned against a wall about five feet above the basement floor. Beneath him was ruble and the remains of the basement roof/first floor through third.

Robin tried to take in a deep breath, but found it extremely difficult. The concrete that pinned him to the wall restricted his lungs and, therefore, breathing. Also, it seemed that he had been impaled by a piece of metal.

_'__Crap. Totally not feeling the Aster. What's Batman going to say?' _Robin coughed, splattering blood into his cupped hand. _'__I have to get unpinned from this wall.' _He struggled to move the concrete slab that was once a roof, but now pinned him. In the state he was in, he couldn't make the section of building move even a centimeter, not to mention the fact that it was six times his size and several more times his weight.

The thick smoke was suffocating, Robin couldn't see five feet in any direction. _'__Should I risk using an explosive? This building could theoretically do some more collapsing. But, now that there's no other persons in here…' _That idea was cut as he saw what appeared to be Gordon searching through the burning remains of the building. _'__Now how am I going to get him out?! What the heck man…'_

The building shifted again and Robin found himself on the ground moments later, still pinned down by the same large slab of concrete. His head was badly bleeding, and his vision began to blur by lack of oxygen. He was struggling by now just to take in breaths and not pass out, the blood loss from his head injury and impalement making it extremely difficult to stay awake.

"Robin?" He looked up to see the Commissioner stumbling towards him, both persons coughing harshly, though Robin's were quieter and more strangled.

"What… the hell, are you doin'?" Robin slurred out between gasps, a hint of anger seeping into his voice.

Gordon rolled his eyes. "Don't act all tough now. I'm here to get you out." He positioned himself by the edge of the concrete slab and lifted.

_'__I think I know how that disabled kid felt, having someone come in after him. It sucks.' _Robin thought as he made an effort to help move what was pinning him down. It shifted, just as the rest of the building came down.

Gordon tried covering Robin the best he could, but the ash that was stirred up did the most damage, suffocating both of them with every inhalation of breath they took. When Gordon stood, he was alarmed by the amount of blood left on his shirt.

_'__Am I bleeding?' _Gordon wondered. It only took a moment though to take note of the jagged metal piercing Robin's side, and the fact that Robin was barely still conscious.

"Hang in there kid." All Gordon received as reply was a grunt.

"You shouldn't be here," Robin commented.

"Why not?" Gordon went along with the conversation, hoping to give the boy a distraction from the pain he must feel.

"Where are the others? The police, the fire fighters? You don't have permission to be here." Gordon sometimes forgot just how smart the kid was, and the fact that he was trained by the world's greatest detective. Gordon decided not to reply this time and to instead attempt at freeing the boy again.

It moved enough for Robin to crawl his way out from under it. The boy immediately tried to stand, and fell to the floor just as quickly. Gordon came by his side and supported him as they attempted to get clear of the surrounding fire and rubble. The flames had died down considerably with less being left to burn, and the smoke was dispersing.

Robin flinched as he took a step, so Gordon continued their conversation for the purpose of a distraction once again.

"Since when has permission ever mattered?"

"To you?" Robin wondered. "Always, as far as I know."

"Well, then I guess you don't know."

"You're going to get fired. You know that right?" The Commissioner sighed in frustration.

"You know, you would have died. You could just say thank you. You know that right?" Gordon asked, ending with the same question Robin had asked. Apparently they were in the business of stating the obvious now. Anything to keep the kid moving.

The Boy Wonder sighed in a type of defeat. "Thank you," he said. It was getting harder to think clearly, and he found himself unable to take another step. If the Commissioner hadn't been supporting him he would have fallen. "I guess… I might still die, huh?" He asked in a quiet, pained whisper.

"No kid, you'll be alright. I already called Batman." Robin groaned, clearly dreading what Batman's reaction would be. Gordon chuckled. "Our medics can look you over. Then we can get you to a hospital."

Robin shook his head, the ambulance coming into view and nothing standing in their path to safety any longer. "I'm not going to the hospital," Robin said factually. As he did, Batman jumped down from a nearby roof top and landed in front of the two. He snatched his partner up and carried him away bridal style.

Before leaving, Batman stopped for no longer than two seconds.

"Thank you," he said, not looking at Gordon, then he and his bleeding partner disappeared into the shadows.

Gordon stood still for a moment, a little shocked. _'He thanked me.'_

The Commissioner scoffed. "He'd better, I saved his damn partner." Gordon returned to the line of police cars and answered his police radio.

"Damn it Gordon, what the hell did you think you were doing?" His angry supervisor yelled through the radio. One might think that the Commissioner of Police didn't have a higher-up, but while Gordon was at the top of the police department ranks, there would always be someone above him. Simply because in this city, a lot of corrupted people didn't like the way Jim Gordon did things, so they always made sure they had someone above him to keep him in check, and to get rid of him if he became too much of a threat.

Either way, Commissioner Gordon spent the next half hour hearing form his 'Higher Up' about how if he had died it would have cost them money, and the insurance, and on and on about things Gordon didn't care about hearing. In the end though, Gordon walked away alive and his job title intact. The next day, the front of the newspapers didn't, in fact, read "Batman Stops Bane," but instead read "Hero's Band Together."

Someone at the site of the fire must have taken some pictures, because on the front cover was a picture of Robin leaning on him as they exit the burning rubble of the fallen building. The article included interviews from the woman and children Robin saved, and of firefighters and police who were there. It even included a few quotes from Gordon's radio conversation with his supervisor which had obviously been eavesdropped in on.

Some reporter out there worked really hard on this piece and, in Gordon's mind at least, this was one of the best front covers of the Gotham Newspaper that has ever been. Out of all the papers he's read in the years he's lived in this damned city, this was one of Gordon's favorites, second only to the newspaper cover that announced Dick Grayson as Bruce Wayne's new ward.

Three days later, Robin was back on patrol, fighting criminals like nothing had happened.

That night as Gordon came to cuff a criminal and the Dynamic Duo went to leave, Robin stopped and called out to him with a wave: "See ya later Commissioner!" Then he disappeared along with his mentor.

_'__I guess I won his favor,' _Gordon thought sarcastically as he gave a small wave to the shadows. He smiled. _'How did Batman get a kid like that?'_

A/N: If any of you have any suggestions for One-Shots for this little One-Shot series, let me know. Your idea may become one of these stories. X) Requirement… It has to include both Richard/Robin and Gordon/The Commissioner. Robin can be any age. If you don't specify an age, then I'll just use the Robin as set in Young Justice (13 years old).

Hope you liked the story.

Please Review.


	2. One-Shot 2: Home Alone

A/N: This one's sad… and if you guys like it enough and provide ideas it also has the potential of being a two shot.

I do not own anything that is DC Universe officially.

Enjoy the story!

**Home Alone**

For Robin, the Boy Wonder, and Dick Grayson, the Rich Kid, this week sucked. Nothing went right.

For Dick Grayson, school was a literal hell. Football was in its off-season, which left the football team bored and greedy. Dick had already received five beatings in the form of "Christmas Presents" by Tuesday night. And his History teacher had decided to assign a project that was due at the end of the week which included reading "A Christmas Carol" and then writing a ten-page essay. Dick had finished the book by Wednesday night, but he ended up writing eight essays due to, again, the football team.

But compared to Robin, Dick Grayson had it easy. Crime always jumped exceedingly around Christmas. There had been dozens of robberies, break-ins, and several kidnappings. Batman was off-world Monday through Friday on an unavoidable mission, so Robin had to deal with it all himself. But his biggest problem occurred Friday night…

Batman trusted Robin completely, and had faith that the boy could handle anything that was thrown his way. But, there was always one villain that Batman told Robin to stay away from… the Joker. But, on Friday night, Joker had grown restless.

Robin was doing his usual patrol which, in December, included five intermediate robberies. Like the Wonder he is, Robin had caught the first four within minutes and was circling back around to a robbery at the Gotham City Wonderland, which was a major toy store. But, upon arrival, Robin quickly realized that the situation was beyond him.

Through the large windows that made the entire front wall of the toy store, Robin could see a dangerous hostage situation. There were about fifteen children lined up in a row, tied together, and surrounded by large canisters. Robin didn't care what the canisters held, because whatever they were, they were dangerous.

Prancing about in front of the children was the Joker who had Harley Quinn clinging to him with a big smile. In the Joker's hand was a small detonator, and all he had to do was push the button to kill the children.

The front doors were blocked by seven well-built men with guns and clown-masks. Five police cars had just arrived on-scene. Robin noted that Commissioner Gordon had not yet arrived. Stealthily, he made his way down to the police lineup. He heard and officer call "Aim!" and Robin felt that they were about to make a terrible mistake. Before he could react, the officer confirmed his suspicion and called out "Fire!"

Just as it was said, the children and the Joker hit the floor, trying to avoid the gunfire. Robin jumped into action; he had to stop the gunfire before the Joker got killed. He leapt onto one of the police cars in the front of the line of fire, spread his arms, and ordered a cease fire. Not wanting to hit him, the gunfire quickly stopped, and the officers looked around in confusion. The officer who had ordered 'Fire' came forward and stood in front of Robin.

"What the hell do you think you're doing kid?!" He screamed angrily, and made a grab for Robin's arm. With quick reflexes, Robin flipped onto the ground and stood at the officer's side.

"What am I doing? What are you doing?! Are you trying to get everyone KILLED?!" Robin accused the officer.

"I'm trying to kill that sadistic maniac before he presses that button!"

"Well it won't work, just wait for the Commissioner to get here."

The officer looked down at him angrily. "Now that maniac in there made a mistake. He set himself in a position where we can easily stop him with a bullet. Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't do exactly that!"

"Because he's the Joker, he always has a backup plan. If you kill him, you'll set things into motion. He probably has goons that are ordered to blow both this place and a dozen other locations upon his death. Killing him isn't an option because he's more dangerous dead than alive; he has too many pieces in this game that are triggered only by the event of his death. When it comes to the Joker, being alive holds him back. He's not willing to destroy all his toys while he's still alive to play with them. The moment he's dead, Gotham's of no use to him anymore, and neither are you."

The officer looked at him dumbfounded. "Are you saying that if we kill him, things will get worse?!"

Robin rolled his eyes under his mask. _'Man, this guy is an idiot. He doesn't even know the Joker's habits.'_ Robin thought. "Just wait until Commissioner Gordon gets here. Don't do anything until then."

With that, Robin disappeared into the shadows of the rooftops. _'Well, now what?'_ He thought. _'Maybe I can go in from the back while Joker is distracted by the police up front.'_

It wasn't much of a plan, but it had to do. So, with quiet speed and stealth, he moved to the back of the building. There, he found an office window two floors up that had been left open. Before he entered, he hacked into the camera feed and shut off the power. Then he proceeded to cut the power to the whole building. _'Like Batman always says, your eyes can deceive you, so it's best to stay in the dark.'_ He found his way carefully to the bottom floor from the third-level office. Once there, he found an air duct to crawl through.

_'Joker isn't usually this careless. He would normally have guards in the back. Something isn't right.'_

_'Maybe Joker has figured out that Batman isn't in Gotham, that I'm alone. Maybe this is a trap.'_ Robin argued with himself in his thoughts.

_'Still, trap or no trap, I have to save those kids. Maybe Joker can settle for just catching me.'_

Now, Robin was on a second-floor balcony where he could look down at the bottom floor of the main toy room. Down below, the children were on their knees, crying for help. Joker was bent down talking to one of them, and Robin's eyes widened as Joker pulled a blade and let it rest on the child's cheek.

_'I have to do something now, before he can hurt them.'_

The police had shined several spotlights into the room, which was stealing Robin of his shadowed attack. Robin pulled out a mirror and begun to reflect the light in a pattern.

_'If Gordon is there, he'll know what I'm telling him.'_

And, just as Robin suspected, Gordon picked up on the message which meant "Turn the damn lights off." And yes, conveying the word damn was necessary.

Moments later, the room filled with a comforting darkness.

_'Now's my chance.'_

He dove forward, flying past the children and the Joker. Between Joker and the door, Robin stood his ground. He could feel the movements around him; the seven guards had come inside. With blinding speed and accuracy, Robin attacked.

He lunged at one of the guards, shoving him to the ground. Using that same momentum, he did a hand stand off the guard's chest and kicked another in the face. He spun as he heard the click of a gun, and he tumbled to the ground as it went off. He rolled forward and hit the gun from underneath, causing it to fall to the floor. Then, with an upward motion, he thrust his palm, hitting the goon in the jaw and sending him back.

_'Three down, four to go.'_

Three more lunged at him simultaneously, and Robin leapt into the air at the last possible second, then he came down onto their heads, knocking them unconscious. The last guard turned towards the commotion, just in time to see a shadowed figure lunge at him. He fired a few pointless shots before he was knocked to the ground unconscious.

Robin then turned to the children and cut their ropes. A few of the children cried and hugged him.

"Now, run to the doors, it's safe. Don't stop until the police have you," he whispered to them, "Go, Now!" With a sudden urgency, the children filed out the doors and into the parking lot. Robin was about to disappear when the lights flicked back on.

_'Crap.'_ He thought, and looked over to see Harley with a laptop. _'She must have turned them back on.'_ Robin threw one of his projectiles and hit the laptop with accuracy. His device beeped and Harley dropped the laptop to run. But she was too late as it exploded and she was thrown into a wall.

Robin turned and faced the Joker now. _'This is where things tend to go wrong.'_

"Well, well, well! If it isn't my favorite, Bird Boy!" Joker said, and secretly, his voice sent chills down Robin's spine. "I was hoping you'd come! And I see my suspicions are correct, the Big Bad Bat isn't around to save you!"

"Give it up Joker; there are a dozen officers outside and only one of you. Your goons proved to be utterly useless, by the way."

The Joker nodded and smiled. "Well, Boy Blunder, can you tell me then; why haven't the police come in and taken me away yet?" Robin glared at the man. "In case you've forgotten, I still have a hostage."

"Is that so?" Robin shuddered inwardly. _'He's right. I've put myself in a bad position. He still has the remote, and I'm standing here by these deadly cans of… whatever. I wonder if this was Joker's plan all along.'_

Joker laughed crazily. "Well boy, looks like we've gotten ourselves into a situation! But don't worry, I can tell you how it goes from here. You're my new hostage, and there's nothing you can do about it. See, this is a toy store, and I came to get a toy; that's you. I'll play with you a little, and then a helicopter will land on the roof, and I'll leave."

The Joker picked up a metal bat from a shelf and begun to walk forward. "It's almost Christmas, and I'm in a good mood, so I won't kill you. Just make sure to tell the Big Bat I said hello." He hit the bat against his palm and lunged. In this situation, Robin could do nothing but take the beating; otherwise, he risked suffering what was in the cans.

Commissioner Gordon watched helplessly as the young hero was beaten. He couldn't risk the Joker pressing the button, because that would kill the boy for sure. He was forced to just watch instead, and hope that the Joker didn't kill him.

About ten minutes went by and Robin lay on the floor panting. He was sure almost all of his ribs were broken, and one of his ribs may have pierced one of his lungs. But now, Robin could hear the drown of a helicopter above him, and the Joker smiled down at him.

"Well, it's been fun, but I have to go now!" And the Joker made his way to the stairs. Once at the top, Joker stopped and looked back. He lifted the remote and pressed the button. Robin's eyes went wide and he could hear the gasps and screams of people outside. Robin stared in fear as the tops of the cans popped off.

But, to his surprise, the cans split in two once the lids were off and thousands of pennies spread across the floor in waves.

_'Canisters of pennies.' _Robin laughed in dismay, but it came out as more of a cough and blood splattered the floor. 'Well,' Robin thought angrily _'You suck, Joker.'_ He was laying here in pain because Joker filled some cans with PENNIES! This whole time, and it was only pennies.

The police and medics were approaching the front door now, and Robin had to get up.

_'It hurts like hell, but I can't let them take me to the hospital. They'll find out my secret identity. I'll have to get back to the cave on my own and have Alfred help me.'_

So, in unimaginable pain, Robin managed to stand without screaming. He shot his grappling hook to the second floor and swung upwards. He heard the police spring at him and stop where he had been only moments ago.

"No Robin, wait!" The Commissioner called out, but Robin ignored him. He made his way to the back window by forcing himself to run. He held his breath as he couldn't breathe and walk at the same time. Once he was out the window and onto the next rooftop, he began a seemingly lifetime journey back to the cave. Still, he pushed himself to go as fast as he could.

_'If I take it slow, it will hurt less, but I'll bleed to death internally before I make it home.'_

He would have liked nothing more than to be allowed to drive the Bat-Mobile at a time like this, and his bike has been out-of-order since an explosion two days ago. Besides, his bike didn't have auto-pilot.

Finally, he entered the tunnel to the cave and walked the final two miles through it. Once in the cave, he called for Alfred and collapsed on the ground. He listened and waited for Alfred to come, and he forced himself not to fall asleep in fear of never waking back up.

He heard the elevator doors slide open and footsteps. "Master Richard?" Alfred called into the darkness. Alfred reached over and turned on the lights. He gasped as he saw the young boy on the ground, and he ran to his side. "Master Richard! Dear God, what happened?!"

"J-J-Joker," Dick replied weakly.

"Come, I must get you to the medical bay." He tried to support the boy as much as he could as Robin walked on shaky legs and stumbled his way along. The rest of the night, despite multiple sedatives, was spent in agony. Alfred couldn't give him a strong enough sedative to ease the pain without putting him to sleep. And once in sleep, Robin's breathing would surely stop.

Alfred worked for nearly four hours, and then stayed awake with him for the rest of the night, never leaving Robin's side. And Robin barley managed to keep his eyes opened; only the pain allowed him to stay awake. Bruce came home the next morning to find Robin on the cot and towels soaked in blood. Alfred was cleaning the blood as best he could when he looked up and saw Bruce staring with wide eyes.

"Dick?! What the hell happened?!"

"Funny, that's like the opposite of what Alfred said."

"There's nothing funny about this Dick. Now answer me, what happened?" He walked over to the cot and placed his hand on Dick's shoulder.

"I kind of got into trouble."

"Well, obviously! I can't leave you alone without you almost dying, can I? Who did this to you?"

Robin hesitated_. 'He isn't going to listen to reason, he's going to be pissed that I didn't call the League for backup. But there was no time!'_ He looked up and saw Bruce was becoming impatient.

"It was Joker." Bruce sucked in his breath. "He had hostages, and there wasn't time for backup from the League, Superman and Flash were off-world with you, and they were the only ones who could have gotten to me on time. I had to act or those kids were going to die." Bruce turned away from him angrily.

"You still shouldn't have gone in alone!" He said, and he hit the table with the tools on it, making it clatter and Robin jump.

"I didn't have a choice," he said timidly.

"You always have a choice Dick! I thought I'd taught you that by now!" He was getting louder and angrier. "You know that I've forbidden you from ever going up against him alone! I usually make you stay behind. Maybe I haven't taught you as well as I'd thought. Maybe I have too much faith in you. Maybe you shouldn't be Robin at all!" At that, Robin flinched.

Bruce turned and stormed out of the room. Secretly, he had seriously regretted that last comment, but taking it back would mean taking back everything he had said, and he had meant everything else. He was still angry at him.

But, with a little time, Richard would forgive him for his last comment and the Dynamic Duo would continue on with their lives, the same as always… right?

Right.

A/N: This use to be the first chapter for a failed story I did. The story didn't go so well so I deleted it, but this first chapter had been really good so I decided to just re-post it as a one-shot in this series, since it does have Gordon in it and all...

This may turn into a two-shot. Depends if you guys like where this is going, or if one of you gives me a good idea of how to continue this. I'm not using it to re-do my failed story right now, but I may make another chapter to turn this into a two-shot if you readers want me to. The second chapter would have to include more of Gordon. If any of you have ideas for continuing this, feel free to share them. X)

If you have any ideas for other one-shots, share those too. I want to hear them. X)

Alright then, please review!


	3. One-Shot 3: Runaway

A/N: This one's Angsty, I'm fueling it with my 'feelings'. Eww… "Feelings." The worst word in the dictionary… F.E.E.L.I.N.G.S. *Bleh*

Anyways, Richard is 13 here and has been Robin for five years. Some people will say this is OOC, but I think it could really happen, especially because it's based on a lot of what really happened in the comics and such. Try to keep an open mind, please. It's not what one would normally expect. Trust me.

I do not own anything DC Universe.

**Runaway**

***.*.*.*Monday: September 9****th**** 2:30 AM*.*.*.***

_"Knock, Knock, Knock."_

A loud knocking echoed through a mostly empty little house. This house was found in a dark place, between the desolate buildings of an iniquitous city named Gotham. Within this house slept a single person. One who, on this night, might be the only hope remaining for a single child.

And so, Jim Gordon moaned grumpily and turned in his bed, but did not arouse.

_"Knock, Knock, Knock."_

The hope known as Jim Gordon, Police Commissioner of Gotham's PD, recognized the sound with a foggy mind. He opened a single eye, just a hair, then let it fall closed again. His glasses lay on the wooden old nightstand beside him, and without them, he did not see. Without sight, he found no reason to awaken fully.

_"Please…"_

The voice was barely audible, a mere whimper on a cold September night. It was almost more of a sob, really. Somewhere in Jim Gordon, who is also known as 'Father,' there was a slight recognition. A twinge that reminded him of a child. What child… he did not know. Surely not his own, for his own daughter was not here. None other than himself resided in this empty house for the time being.

Gordon's eyes opened now, and no longer felt like reclosing. He sat up on his bed and felt for his glasses. He placed them upon the bridge of his nose and looked out the lightly shimmering window. Snowflakes fell in a fury outside, scattering in directions and creating a screen that allowed little sight past the glass. Gordon sighed, glad that he was safely inside his home. Then he remembered that there was a person who was not inside the warm house. Someone that the whimpering told him was a child, and that his heart was sure was a child in need of him.

He quickly stood now and sped-walked to the door. He twisted the handle and flung it wide open, white frozen powder falling across his floor and a bone-chilling breeze brushing through the house.

At first, Gordon saw nothing, so he leaned out of the door frame and looked around a bit. Leaning against the wall, directly to the left of his front door, was indeed a person. Their legs were pulled up to their chest, and their hair completely white with wet and powdered snow. This person was indeed small, like a child, and to Gordon's astonishment and, almost horror, this person wore no jacket and clothes that were soaked completely by melted September snow.

In a rush, Gordon sprang forward and wrapped his arms around the body's torso. There was a slight protest from the cold person, but it was weak and half-hearted. A single whimper escaped before Gordon picked them off of the cold concrete porch and carried them inside. He slammed the door shut behind them and carried the body into the living room. He set the small child on the couch, the person automatically settling into a sitting position. They shook some snow out of their hair, then looked up. Bright blue eyes stared at Gordon's darker brown ones. The boy in front of Gordon looked up at him sadly, perhaps a bit expectantly. Gordon could call this sight nothing short of adorable, but anger soon entered the man's thoughts.

"Richard, what the hell were you doing?" Gordon asked as calmly as he could, barely managing to keep his voice low.

"I…" The small-framed boy didn't continue, but instead broke the eye contact and stared at the floor.

"Dick," Gordon said with boiling anger, his voice rising a little. "What where you doing?"

"I… didn't know where else to go. I… I, ran away. Stupid, right?"

"Stupid, oh, you think?!" Gordon threw his arms out for emphasis. "Christ, Dick! I would have walked out of this house in the morning and found you a frozen ice-sculpture! The paramedics would have to use a blow-torch to pull your body from the ice! I mean, God Dick. Why in the middle of a storm like this?! Couldn't you just wait until tomorrow? And it's two in the f…" Gordon paused, and lowered his voice. In a much softer tone this time, he continued. "It's two in the morning Dick. What were you thinking? This isn't the circus, it's Gotham city. Do you know what could have happened to you?"

Dick shuddered inwardly, not just because of the cold, but by the thought of what could have happened to him tonight. He was, as a matter of fact, very aware of a great many things that could have happened. Many very terrible things that could have meant either a very terrible life, or a very terrible death. Robin had informed him of such things; the things that could happen to a young boy in Gotham at night. Sometimes, the lessons included personal experience.

But, tonight, Dick didn't care enough. To him, he had to come here. To him, this was his best option.

Gordon huffed after about three minutes of Dick's silence, then he walked over to a phone hanging on his wall. He picked it up and began to dial a number.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked, sudden concern making him jump a little where he sat. He quickly turned on the couch to watch Gordon as he finished dialing the number. The phone began to ring.

"I'm calling Bruce," Gordon informed him. Richard's face lit with horror.

"NO!" Dick called and stumbled over the back of the couch in Gordon's direction. He stumbled to hang up the phone but stopped when Bruce's voice rang out of the phone.

"Hello?" He sounded angry, unintentional venom seeping deeply through his dark, low voice. Gordon was taken aback for a moment by the sheer anger. "I don't have time for–" Bruce started again, still sounding pissed. Gordon re-found himself and answered.

"Mr. Wayne?" He asked. Bruce grunted a confirmation.

"Gordon?" Bruce asked, trying not to sound angry and lightening his voice. "Why are you calling on such a cold night? Is something wrong?" Bruce asked, and Dick could just tell he had a fake smile plastered on his face.

"Um, no, not particularly, Mr. Wayne. It's just that, I've got your ward here at my house Bruce. Dick just showed up on my door-step and–" Gordon was cut off suddenly by Bruce's angry voice.

"Dick is there?!" Bruce didn't even try to hide the anger now, it was as clear as day. "Keep him there! I'll be right over…" Gordon sent a worried glance Dick's way. When Bruce said he was coming over, Dick looked like his heart dropped though the floor. Now he was eyeing the phone like it was utter death.

"Actually, Mr. Wayne," Gordon said quickly. He didn't know why, but he suddenly didn't want Bruce showing up either. Not just yet. "Bruce, you shouldn't come over in a storm like this, or this late at night. I can hold on to Richard until the morning comes and the storm lets up. I have room for him. You can come pick him up in the morning." Silence came from the other line for a few moments.

"Can I speak with Richard?" Bruce asked while trying to sound calm, but not being able to hide the dark undertone from Gordon, who had known him longer than almost anyone else.

Gordon answered with a quick "Sure." Before handing the phone to Richard, he put it on speakerphone. Gordon pressed a finger to his lips and looked at Richard, as if to tell him _'Don't tell Bruce it's on speakerphone, or that I can hear him.' _Dick understood and nodded before picking up the phone and holding it to his ear.

"Richard?" Bruce asked with false calmness. Dick didn't say a word, but even with the utter silence Bruce seemed to know his ward could hear him.

"Dick," Bruce's voice was still dark and angry. Almost… really threatening. "I know you can get home if you need to. You have your ways. I want you home in _one hour_. Otherwise, don't bother coming back at all. _Ever_." Dick visibly flinched at the last word, Gordon almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. Still not saying a word, Dick placed the phone back on its rack and the call ended. With the end of the call, the house was left with a smothering silence, only the wind howling outside reached the two male's ears. The world seemed so dark and lonely.

"Richard," Gordon said softly. Dick turned on his heels and headed for the door.

"Dick, wait. I'll drive you home."

"No," Dick said shortly.

"Richard, you can't walk home in that weather. It'll take too long anyways. Dick?" Gordon stood in front of the door and their eyes met. Richard had always hated how much his eyes gave away, and right now, they held full-fledged anger.

"Dick, are you… actually going home…?" Gordon was starting to question Richard's intent. By the look on his face, going home wasn't an option, other people couldn't help him, and now staying here, his last chance, was gone.

"Dick…" Gordon sighed, not liking how little Richard's been communicating. "Go, just, sit on the couch. I'll get you some dry clothes, okay? You… you can stay here, for the night. I'll talk to Bruce tomorrow, see if I can change his mind. For now, just don't leave, okay?" Dick stared at him, the anger fading a little, then his eyes turned to sadness and he nodded solemnly.

Gordon rummaged through some of his clothes. He grabbed a pair of slacks he'd bought that had been too small on him. They would still be big on Richard, no doubt, but it was the best he had. Jim's shirts were all far too big though, and such loose clothes wouldn't keep Dick warm enough, so instead he slipped into Barbra's room and grabbed a T-shirt. It was a plain white shirt, one of her smaller ones, and unused. Even though it was one of Barbra's smaller plain shirts, it might be a little big still. At least it would fit well enough.

Gordon gave Dick the clothes and the young boy changed in the bathroom. A belt had to hold the oversized pants up, and the shirt was a little loose, but at least it stayed on his shoulders. It amazed Gordon sometimes just how small Richard was. He was two grades ahead of his age level, so he was a freshman in high school while he's supposed to be in seventh grade. Barbra was a junior, having skipped one grade, but by age level, she was a sophomore.

Looking at Dick as he came out of the bathroom, he was so small and thin, Gordon wondered how he could be so small-framed. He looked particularly small, shoulders slumped, back slouching. He didn't stand tall like he always did on TV, in front of other people. And he looked so sad and beaten down emotionally. What exactly did Bruce do to make Dick so upset?

Gordon pushed it aside for now as he led Richard to the couch in the living room. He sat Dick down and Jim Gordon found a seat next to the boy.

"Dick?" Gordon asked. "What happened? Maybe… maybe I can help you. Please, tell me." Dick looked at him sadly, eyes barely peeking out from under his pitch-black bangs, the strands of hair making a fine wet curtain to hide some of the boy's emotions.

"Well… I. I guess." He paused and took a deep, shaky breath. "I guess it's because of what happened earlier today… well, yesterday morning I guess since it's past 12 AM. Bruce had a press conference. A lady arranged it with his secretary, and I was dragged along upon her request. I'll admit that I got a little angry at Bruce for using me to get on her good side, but I don't think he meant it that way. I'm not really mad at him for that. It was… when she started asking questions. And she was recording it all. And Bruce…"

And so Dick began recounting the events from yesterday…

**Sunday: September 8****th**** 11:35AM**

***Dick's POV***

I held back another moan as the pretty little blond reporter batted her eyelashes at Bruce. I knew that the main reason Bruce slept around so much was because he needed a cover for Batman, but that didn't mean I had to like it. It was the biggest downside to living with Bruce. Still, I was more than willing to deal with it because the only other option was to simply not live with Bruce. That was the last thing I would ever want to happen. Ever. (Funny how things work out, isn't it?)

Of course, the reporter still had a job to do. She straitened herself when I coughed nonchalantly. She then set down a recording device and pushed a button. Anything said here was officially on record now.

"Mr. Wayne, Grayson, it's great to see you here today." She said politely. Bruce and I gave happy little greetings and then the questions began. I always had a deep hatred for the process, but it was 'necessary,' at least that's what Bruce says.

"So," the reporter began, "how often do you two talk? What do you do together in your spare time?"

_'Patrol Gotham, duh.' _I think to myself with an inward smirk. (I left that part out of the story though. Gordon didn't need to know my thoughts on Batman and Robin.)

"I usually let Richard sit in my study when I'm filling out paperwork." The reporter nodded.

"What do you usually talk about Richard?" She asked, turning to look at me with a straight face.

"Well, I guess I tell him how school was… mostly complaining. He tells me how work was," I pause, then add with a smile "mostly complaining." The reporter laughs a little. "Sometimes I read a book or do homework, and we just sit in a comfortable silence. It depends on the day."

She nodded once again. "Do you ever talk about the past?" She asks, and I knew what was coming next. "Do you talk about your real parents? About what happened to the Graysons, and the Waynes?"

I force myself to not be angry, or to flinch. I try to keep my voice steady and light as I go to answer. Of course, when Bruce answers for me, I almost sigh with relief.

"When we feel it's necessary we talk about them, just the two of us. Otherwise, we don't like to think about it." I hope she'll take the hint and stop there, but she doesn't.

"When do you feel it's necessary?" She asked, kindness void in her voice.

Without thinking I say "Most of the time it's when a reporter asks. I mean, it would be rude to just not answer their questions, right?" I see Bruce slightly smile next to me. No one else would ever have noticed, but I did. The reporter, who had been leaning in close to us, sits back and nods. She takes a moment to think about it, almost looking like she just got slapped. Then she shakes her head a little and returns her attention to us, pretending that what clearly just happened, didn't happen.

And, to my horror, she pursues the same subject. Her boss must have told her to ask a lot about it, because it seems it's what she's most interested in. Her paper would be about the psychological side to our relationship, about what happened, how much we talk about it. She wasn't going to give up. For that, my hatred grew a bit.

"So, how much have you talked about the events of two days ago? What precautions have you personally taken, Mr. Wayne, to ensure Dick's safety?" I waited for him to respond, a bit of curiosity making me wonder since I didn't know what 'events' she was talking about. After thirty seconds without Bruce answering, my curiosity peaked. Was he hiding something? I turned and looked at him, and sure enough, there was a dark scowl on his face.

"Bruce?" I asked questioningly. The reporter seemed to catch on. To what, I didn't know.

"Mr. Grayson," She suddenly asked, "do you know what events took place two days ago?" I stared at her for a moment, then slowly shook my head 'no'. Maybe this was why Bruce hadn't let me go on patrol Friday or Saturday night. Two days ago was Friday.

"W-what happened?" I asked, trying to smile a little. Obviously, it had been important because Bruce had tried to hide it from me.

"I think the interview is over," Bruce said hastily, "Thank you for coming but I must ask you to leave now," Bruce says as he pulls me off the couch and tries to usher me away. I push past his arms and stare at the reporter.

"What happened?" I ask more forcefully. The reporter stares at me wide-eyed and opens her mouth as if to speak. But she's cut off-

"You said this interview was about the new building," Bruce says. "If we're not going to talk about that then please, just go." The woman looks at him, then turns back to me. She picks up her recording device and for a moment I worry that she's going to turn it off and walk away. Instead, she walks closer to me and puts it close to my face.

"Mr. Grayson, how do you feel about Tony Zucco awakening from his coma and escaping from the hospital?" I stare at her for a moment, then turn and look at Bruce with wide eyes.

"Bruce? What's she talking about? You said Zucco died of a heart attack five years ago! You said he was dead, Bruce!"

Bruce came forward as if to embrace me, but… I pushed his arms away.

"You _lied_ to me? About something so important?!"

"Dick, please," Bruce said quietly, but I didn't want to hear it. I pushed past him and ran up to my room. I watched Bruce out of the corner of my eye as he glared at the reporter then sighed and came to follow me as Alfred led the reporter out via the front door. I ran faster and made it to my room soon enough to close my door and lock it before Bruce could get there.

I stepped away from the door and stared at it, standing in the middle of my room with the lights off. Sure enough, it was only after a few more seconds that the doorknob turned, but the door didn't open.

"Dick," Bruce called softly. "Dick, unlock the door." I nodded to myself, and somehow Bruce knew that I wasn't coming to unlock it. "Dick, please, let me explain."

Angrily, I came forward, unlocked the door, and threw it open. I glared up at him. "You _lied_ to me," I said lowly.

"Richard, I'm sorry I–"

"Why?" I asked, cutting him off. He looked down at me sadly.

"I didn't want you to worry about him coming to get you, or for you to do anything stupid."

"I can handle myself Bruce! You know that," I said almost heartbrokenly. "But… that's not what I meant. I mean, why, after all these years, didn't you tell me that he was alive? Why did you tell me he died?! Why did you lie to me," my voice cracked on the last sentence and tears sprung to my eyes. I looked down and whipped at them furiously, but more soon sprang up to replace them.

"I…" Bruce stopped and thought. Clearly what he'd been about to tell me was the truth, and he didn't want to tell me the truth. Probably because it would give me more of a reason to be mad. Instead, he said "I have reasons."

"What reasons Bruce? What reasons could possibly outweigh the truth, and my trust in you? Do you not trust me?" Bruce didn't answer for a moment, so I knew his answer. "You don't trust me, do you? Not even after five years."

"This isn't about trust, Dick," he said coldly. I glared at him intently. "It's about your safety."

"My safety?!" I screamed. Now this, I just couldn't believe. "In what universe am I safer by not knowing that the man who killed my parents is out on the streets of Gotham?! Wake up Bruce! I'm not nine anymore! I deserved to know then and I certainly deserve to know now! And after all of this time, putting my complete trust, my time, my _life_, into your hands, telling you everything, anything you ask I answer truthfully, but you can't even tell me what happened to my parents' murderer?!" I sob now and turn and walk back into my room. I hold my arms in the dark and sob quietly to myself. Bruce comes in behind me.

"Dick," Bruce says sternly.

"It's still my life, Bruce! Even when I was nine, I hadn't given my life to you! Maybe I have by now, but back then I barley even knew you! Yet you got to decide what I could and couldn't know?! You just decide that I can never know what happened to Zucco? Why would you do that?!"

"Like I said," Bruce started, "I have my reasons."

"That's not an acceptable answer!" I yell, tears quickly streaming down my face by now.

"Well it's the only answer you'll get!" Bruce yells back.

"I deserve a real answer! I deserve to know the truth Bruce!"

"Do you?!" He asks, and I stop. Could he honestly think that I _don't_ deserve to know?! Of course I deserve to know.

"I've given you everything I have Bruce, and that isn't very much. But still, I gave it all to you! Because you were the only one who told me the truth, and who was willing to help me. You were my only hero," I said tears still streaking. "But now, who are you to me? Keeping this secret, and such an important one. What else do you hide from me?"

"Dick," Bruce said "I don't have to explain this to you. I'm your guardian, what you know is what I decide you should know. It's my job to keep you safe, Richard. I don't have to explain myself to you and I'm sure as hell not going to." I glared at him, pain filling my thoughts.

"Then we don't have anything else to talk about, do we?" I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door. I stepped out into the hall, but Bruce grabbed my arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked sternly.

"I'm going to find out the truth!" I said. He grabbed my jacket and threw it to the ground. I glared at him, then stomped down the stairs, him following closely behind me.

"You are not leaving this house!" Bruce said, once again grabbing for my arm. I yanked it away and continued down the stairs. To my surprise, a sturdy arm wrapped its self around my torso and lifted me.

"Let me GO!" I screamed. Alfred came out from the kitchen and watched, but ultimately remained silent. "Bruce, let go!"

"No!" Bruce said harshly.

"You can't keep me here!" I screamed.

"Watch me!" Bruce yelled back. "This is why I didn't tell you anything! To keep you from doing something stupid like this!"

"This is your fault Bruce! I wouldn't have to fight against you if you'd told me the truth!" I struggled against his arm. I tried prying at it with my small hands, but Bruce reached forward and grabbed my wrists with a single hand. He held them up above my head and continued to carry me up the stairs and towards my room. We entered the hallway and to my horror he didn't stop in front of the door to my room. Instead, he continued down the hall.

"No, Bruce, please! Not there!" I said.

For those of you who don't know, Bruce liked 'safe rooms'. He had them everywhere, in the house, the cave, Wayne Towers. There was one in particular, here in the mansion, which he'd built specifically for me. He said it was for if I ever tried to hurt myself, but honestly, it was mostly for if I ever got in his way. He'd put me here once, after we started arguing. It was just another tool of his to keep me under control. In the back of my mind I sometimes called it immoral and possibly a form of child abuse, but I'd still rather take this than to go back into the system.

"Bruce, please!" I screamed as Bruce reached into his pocket to grab the key. He still held my wrists above my head and I began to kick at him. He pulled me up higher and easily held me off of the ground. Sometimes, I really hated being small…

He pulled the key out and unlocked the large metal door. Then, he threw me in, and it closed behind me.

And I screamed.

It was dark, pitch black. The walls and floor and roof were all padded with black cushioning. Not white, no. Black. I hit the door, screaming for him to let me out. The door was the only thing un-cushioned, and the hollow sound of fists hitting the metal died quickly in the padded room. There was nothing for sound to echo off of here. It felt so… terribly lonely. Like the world hated me, honestly.

After what seemed like forever I stopped banging and leaned against the wall. I sank to the floor and pulled my knees up to my chest. _'At least he didn't pull the straight jacket out this time,' _I thought to myself miserably as I sobbed. The confinements of the room were smothering me. I was painfully aware of the walls, each one seemingly too close to me, invading my personal space. For how crowded and confined I felt, the emptiness was the worst part. Even though the room was small and stuffy, it still managed to make me imagine that the whole dark, empty world was here. A small world with no life or light, only the restriction and hollow feeling that it left inside my soul.

I thought I was going to be there for forever. Bruce, he was furious. I was furious. And then he locked me in here. By this point, I would have called Child Protective Services to get me out, if I had had my phone. But I didn't, so I stayed there. It was suffocating, and sometimes I had to remind myself to breathe, whenever I got lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. There were oxygen holes in here somewhere under the padding, so I wouldn't actually die from suffocation… unless I tried. I could… If I really wanted to.

But I didn't, so I let the thought die away. I wasn't that desperate… yet. Hopefully I would never have to resort to _that_.

I waited there, sobbing until I was dried up. I waited as the seconds ticked by, having no way to count them. I didn't sleep, I don't think. It was so dark I couldn't really tell the difference between eyes opened and eyes closed. Bruce had made sure I would never actually _see_ the inside of the room so that I wouldn't be able to find a way out.

Finally, after so long that I could no longer feel my arms or legs in the surrounding darkness (I could be _flying_ for all I knew) I heard a very, very quiet _click_. I thought at first that I'd just imagined it, but soon learnt that I hadn't. The door swung slowly and silently open, letting light poor into the room. I was blinded by it, but I felt like calling out in joy. I was still feeling depressed and betrayed, don't get me wrong, but for a brief moment all I could think about was how happy I was to finally get out of the smothering darkness.

I started crying again as Alfred came into the room and put his arms around my shoulders. I hugged the old man tightly and sobbed into him, glad that he had come.

"D-did B-Bruce send you to g-get me?" I asked while still sobbing.

"No Master Richard. In fact, he forbade me from unlocking the door. I suspect he won't be pleased, you had best keep away from him for the time being. He's taken to his study with a bottle." I nod. _'Great, now he's drunk.' _Bruce was as well known for drinking as he was for sleeping around. Since he took me in, he's substituted most of his alcohol for sparkling water to leave the impression that he was drinking, then he would act as if he were drunk during the large parties he often went to. Sometimes though, he still drinks of course. He had made a habit of it before finding me, and a habit like that is hard to break. When he did get drunk, it was almost never with me around. Only twice has he ever been drunk while I was there. Once things got weird, and the other time I found him ready to pass out. I've heard that sometimes, rarely, he can become violent while drunk, but I never know which rumors are true anymore. I assume this one is true because, as much as I hate to admit it, it's something that would match his personality.

"Alfred… thank you," I say quietly as he helps me stand and make it to the door. "How… how long have I been in there?" I ask.

Alfred looks at me sadly. "Over twelve hours." I stumble a little as he helps me walk down the hallway. It had felt like a long time, and I guess yeah, it actually had been a really freaking long time.

"Well, I guess I should get going." Alfred looked at me solemnly.

"You are leaving then?" I nod.

"Sorry Alfred. You know that I have to. I have to know the truth." He agrees and I make it to the top of the stairs. I can actually feel my legs now, so I thank him one last time and leave. Or, at least I try to. A door opens somewhere in the house and Bruce comes limping forward. He stops in front of the front door, a bottle in his hand.

"Richard," he says and shakes his head. "Just go back before something bad happens here. I'll admit, I forgot my better judgment tonight, and I'm drunk now. I'm giving you a chance. Just go back to the room."

"You mean my cell?" I call down loudly to him. I walk down the stairs to stand in front of him. My instincts are screaming at me, telling me that this is an absolutely terrible idea. He's _drunk_, and quite frankly, he's much bigger than me. Even drunk he'd be able to seriously hurt me if he tried. He'd be able to kill me easily, I'm sure. Hell, with him being drunk, he might even be able to easily kill me _by accident_. I know that I really should return to my cell, to just walk away, but I have too much in this. He lied to me! I have to go find the truth! If I let him rule over me any longer, I'll never get away. I feel so trapped now, and I have to get free. My hero has quickly turned into my captor, and I have only myself to blame. I can't let it go on any longer.

And so I fight.

Bruce does start it though. I go to open the front door. I twist the knob, and he grabs my hand. He pushes me back, and I stumble a little on my still shaky legs. I haven't eaten, I'm dehydrated, and I think I'm going to lose this battle miserably.

"I'm not letting you leave," he says. I try to shove past him, but he grabs my arm and shoves me harshly to the ground. I kick at his legs and he stumbles like… well… a drunkard. He falls to the floor next to me and pulls me down as I try to stand, then he pins my arms to my sides and wraps his arms around me. He holds me against him and he manages to stand with me struggling in his arms.

"Let me GO! I won't give in this time! I won't!" I kick at him, but it's hard to land a good one since he's behind me and I'm pinned to him. He slams me into a wall and twists my arm behind my back. He pulls at it, and I scream.

"I'll never let you go." He sounds completely ticked off, and like I'm some prize of his that someone's trying to steal.

"Go to hell," I tell him with full rage in my voice, and so he twists my arm harder. And, as drunk as he is, he twists it too far. It pops out of socket and I scream in agony. The popping sound followed by my scream startles him and he lets go. With pained tears in my eyes I fall to the floor. Then I kick at his legs and make him fall again. I painfully slam my dislocated shoulder into the wall and it pops back into place, but caused me to whimper. Then I turn to the front door again. Bruce isn't going to let me go that easily though. He stands and blocks my path to the door once more. This time I try to jump over him, but he catches me by the ankle. I land on the ground in front of him and roll onto my feet. Then, we both just attack.

I kick at him, he punches at me. It gets intense for a while, about five minutes of running around the room, sometimes things breaking. He lands a punch to my gut, I land a kick to his leg that sends him to the floor. I try to punch him but he grabs my fist and elbows me in the face, giving me a nose bleed that I promptly ignore.

Then Bruce picks up the bottle he'd left on the floor and smashes it against my head. Dark brown glass shatters everywhere and a red liquid flows into my left eye; blood. He lunges at me and I try to move, but I'm not fast enough, my head's still splitting from the impact with the bottle. His full weight pushes me to the ground and a loud crack ensues as my head whacks against the marble floor. My vision blurs for a moment, and then…

Sturdy hands wrap around my neck and squeeze.

I gasp for air and try to pull them away, but they don't move. I try to move Bruce's arms, but they're as sturdy as pillars. I struggle and kick, but no matter what I do I can't shake him off of me. I struggle harder as I panic, my lungs screaming for oxygen and my head splitting. The struggling makes him squeeze tighter.

So I stop. I look up at him through my right eye, the only one I can currently have open without blood flowing into it. He's glaring down at me, but when my blue eye meets his two dark ones, he stops glaring. His eyes widen a bit, and he locks up. He still doesn't move, at least for a few moments. Then he lets go of his strangling hold on my throat and pushes away from me. He stares down at me in horror as I lay on the ground and cough for a few moments, clutching my neck as if it will help me breathe, my blood pulses painfully.

Bruce still doesn't move from his shocked state as he stares down at me. I stand, and he seems to snap out of it a little. "Richard," he says sternly. I run for the door and manage to throw it open. He doesn't move at first, but then sprints towards me. It's too late though. I make it out the door and into a Gotham September's snow storm. He calls my name again, still sounding full of rage, but I push on through the wind. I don't look back.

**…Back To The Present…**

"Then what happened?" Gordon asked. Dick shrugged.

"I washed the blood from my face in the snow and I wondered around for a while. Then I came here." Dick said as he wrapped himself tighter in the blanket that was wrapped around him. He was sitting on the couch, Gordon next to him and listening intently to the story as it was told.

Gordon looked at the clock. Bruce had told Dick to be home forty-six minutes ago. If Gordon turned on his police lights and sped he could get Dick back to the mansion on time. But, after hearing all of… _that_… Gordon didn't want the boy anywhere near Bruce for a while.

_'I didn't think Bruce would do something like this. I should have known though. He has a drinking problem, accounts of violence. He just, really looked like he cared about Dick. I never thought…' _Gordon was pulled from his thoughts as he heard a quiet muffled sob. Gordon looked sadly to the boy next to him.

Gordon sighed, then reached over and wrapped his arms around the boy. He let Dick sob against his chest, his shirt soon soaking with the boy's tears.

"Shh… It's okay," Gordon tried to sooth the boy. He should really take him to the hospital… maybe. But, if he did, then Richard would be sent back into the Gotham Juvenile System first thing in the morning. The Gotham Adoption System was full, there would be no room for him. Even if there was, orphanages and foster homes in Gotham were still very unpleasant. There would be some crazy people out there who would try to adopt him just because he's been the ward of Bruce Wayne. Gordon couldn't allow that. Still, he couldn't let Bruce hurt him again.

"What am I going to do with you?" Gordon said quietly, his voice filled with kindness. Dick laughed a quiet, yet still heartbroken, laugh. Gordon held onto him a little tighter.

"I'm sorry," Dick whispered. Gordon only shook his head.

"Don't be." Quietly, Gordon lifted Dick and carried him to the bedroom. He laid Dick down and covered him with the thick blankets. Gordon quietly shut the door behind him as he exited the room where the boy now slept. Then the man made his way to the phone and dialed Bruce Wayne's number once again.

The phone rang three times before Bruce picked up.

"We need to talk," Gordon said immediately. The two men negotiated as the wind howled outside and white powder fell over the city.

**-Line Break-**

Dick awakened that morning with a headache and a dry tongue. A few dry tear trails still remained on his cheeks, so Dick whipped them away before stepping out of the bed and opening the door. Gordon approached him, then silently led Dick to the wooden table in the kitchen. There he served the boy scrambled eggs, toast, and a pitcher of water. Richard gladly accepted them.

He ate the meal in silence while Gordon watched. When he finished, Gordon took the dishes and set them in the sink, then returned to sit at the table once more.

"Richard," Gordon began, "I have to ask you. Do… you want to stay? With Bruce?" Gordon asked, tripping on his words a little. Dick stared down at the floor for several long minutes before a few tears sprung to his eyes. He hung his head, his dark midnight hair covering his face, and nodded a small 'yes'. Gordon sighed a little. "Then, I'm guessing the events of yesterday will have to remain a secret?" Richard nodded once more. "If anything like this ever happens again," Gordon said with intensity in his voice, "don't hesitate to call me. Next time, I won't let you return to him." Dick looked up at him with large sad eyes.

"I can't go back anyways," he said. "Bruce said that I should never go back. He'll just send me away." Gordon slowly shook his head.

"No, I talked to Bruce last night. We came to some… understandings." Gordon paused when Richard's head jerked up and his blue eyes stared at the man. Gordon smiled. "He's worried about you." At that, Dick smiled again, a small smile.

_'He forgives too easily,' _Gordon thought. One of the terms that Bruce and Jim had come to agree upon early that morning was that Dick would only have to return if he wanted to. And, if he didn't, then Gordon would make sure he didn't go back into the system.

_"You would do that?" _Bruce had asked over the phone. _"You would adopt him yourself?"_

_"I would," _Gordon had replied certainly. _"I'm a cop, the courts would have no problems with giving Richard to me. And, if anything like last night ever happens again, they wouldn't hesitate to take him away from you and hand him over to me. Bruce, I want what's best for you. Ever since your parents died I've hoped something good would help you straighten out your life. But now I have to think about Dick. Don't screw this up, Bruce. Honestly, I think it's the only chance you'll get to be happy." _After that, Gordon had hung up the phone, and thus the conversation had ended. That was around six this morning. Now it was nearly noon, and Richard sat across from him at the small wooden table, looking a little happy again. Gordon smiled at the boy, then pulled out a large orange envelope. He slid it across the table and Dick slowly picked it up.

"What's this?" He asked.

"A case file," Gordon replied with a smile. Richard stood and opened the envelope. Gordon also rose and came to stand near him.

Richard pulled out some papers and read a few words at the top. "What case?" Richard asked quietly, realization sinking in.

"It's everything the police know about Tony Zucco and events pertaining to him." Richard turned and looked up at the man.

"You could get fired for showing me this! You could go to jail for it! I'm not allowed to see these! No one is!" Dick said, a look of shock on his face. Gordon shrugged.

"Then it can be our secret, right?" Dick slowly smiled, his face lighting up. He quickly tackled the man in a hug and Gordon barely managed not to fall over. Jim chuckled. "As soon as you finish reading it I'll take you home." Dick smiled at him one more time.

"Thank you," he said happily.

_'I really hope Bruce doesn't screw this up.' _

A/N: Aww, that was sad.

*Yawn* Meh, it's late, but hey! I'm done with this one-sot! (And yes, this one was AU-ish, but it's based on events that really did happen in the comics.)

For those of you who don't know it, Bruce really did lie to Richard about Zucco's death by telling him Zucco died of a heart attack when in truth he only fell into a coma. I just changed it so that Dick finds out when he's thirteen instead of after he becomes Nightwing.

Also, I would like to think that he could never hurt Dick, and that he loves him too much, but in the back of my mind I know it's not true. Especially, Bruce does have an alcoholic problem, even after he finds Richard he doesn't give up alcohol altogether. And Bruce can be violent at times. Not usually, but people make mistakes. And there have been a number of violent fights between the two in the comic books.

Anyways, Please REVIEW! X)


	4. One-Shot 4: Windowsill Visit

A/N: This one-shot is requested by Therna Blakeheart. Thanks for the idea! And remember readers, if you have an idea, you can tell me about it and maybe it will become one of these stories!

This story will probably be a shorter one. It's not overly complicated, and there are only a few important moments and little filler in between. Short and sweet, ya know? Robin's thirteen. YJ style.

I do not own anything DC Universe!

Alright then! Enjoy!

**Windowsill Visit**

**January 11****th**** 12:30 PM**

Jim Gordon sat in his home, a coffee mug in one hand and the daily newspaper in the other. He'd just arrived home from a very, very long day as the chief of police… also known as his job. He'd barely walked in the door three minutes ago. Two minutes ago he'd added coffee mix into the boiling water resting in his coffee mug. Thirty seconds ago he'd sat down and opened up the Gotham Daily Newspaper. Now, he's picking up the TV remote and pressing the 'on' button. The TV flicks on with a quiet clicking noise. James flips it over to the news, then brought the paper back up to his nose while causally blowing into his hot liquid drink.

Gordon takes a sip of his coffee and glances up at the TV. What he sees makes him spit the coffee back into his mug, set it on a small table with haste, and run right back out the door which he'd come in from.

Those care-free four minutes would be the only rest he'd get that night, yet it was the least of his troubles now.

Speeding down the road in his police cruiser, Gordon turns the radio to the news station and listens intently.

A young woman's reporter voice drones throughout the car… _"There has yet to be an agreement made over the hostage situation. The child is still at the Joker's mercy, and the Joker has given no inquiries as to what it is he's looking for."_

_'Mercy?' _Gordon thought momentarily. _'The Joker has no mercy to give.'_

Gordon turns the volume down to '0' when his phone begins to vibrate.

"Commissioner, have you heard?" An officer's voice asks in the other end of the line.

"I have. I'm just arriving at the location now," James replies as he steps out of his car and walks to the front of the police car line up. Another officer comes forward and hands him a microphone that's attached to some large speakers.

"Joker," Gordon says into it, his voice echoing off the skyscrapers around him. Suddenly, every TV in Gotham has the Joker's face on it. Yet another one of the many officers sets a small portable TV on a car hood near the Commissioner. Gordon watches as the Joker seemingly looks straight at him through the small screen of the TV.

"Hello there, Commissioner!" Joker greets from the TV screen. "How lovely it is to see you again! I'll never forget the last time you threw me into a padded cell! Or the one before that, or the time before that…" Gordon cut him off by speaking into the microphone again.

"What are your demands," Gordon asked sharply, not bothering with trying to talk the Joker out of anything. Such attempts never work on the Joker.

"You're just going to give in? Just like that?" Joker asked. "That's too bad. I wanted to have some fun…" Joker said, a disappointed frown crossing the mad man's face.

"Where's Batman?" Gordon asked, not into the microphone but to one of the other officers.

"No one has seen him yet. Do you think he'll show up?" The officer asked.

"Of course he will. He always shows up for two things. The Joker, and his partner's life. With both involved there's no way he won't be here. He's probably here already, he just hasn't been given a good chance to make a right move."

"Well then, in that case," Joker's voice chimed again through every TV screen in the city. "I've made my decision. I'll let the boy go, if you come up here, Commissioner, and get him yourself. Alone."

Gordon spoke into the microphone once more. "Him for me?" The man asked. On the TV screen Joker nodded with a wide, sickening smile on his face. With no more to discuss, James handed the microphone off and started walking towards the entrance of the building. He stopped when the officer he'd been talking to caught him by the arm.

"You aren't actually going to give yourself up like that, are you mate? He'll kill you for sure, he might even kill the kid too." Gordon pulled his arm away.

"I'll figure something out." On that cheerful note, Gordon disappeared into the building. He passed through the revolving doors and stopped in front of two elevator doors. He pressed a button, waited, and then realized that the elevators were offline.

_'Great,' _Gordon thought sarcastically as he opened the metal door to the stairwell. It was a good thing he was in shape. A little old? Maybe, but the stairs weren't too large of a problem.

Gordon began climbing at a fast rate. He didn't have time to waist. When he reached the top not even ten minutes later he hesitated only at the door before stepping onto the roof. There Joker waited, dark red-stained hair clasped tightly in Joker's right hand while his left hand pressed the blade of a knife to the child's throat. Robin squirmed when, to his horror, Gordon actually showed up and stepped out on to the roof. Joker held the small boy against the front of his body as a shield in case the Commissioner tried anything. Of course, Gordon knew better than to attempt anything while Robin was still in Joker's hands.

"Commissioner! So good of you to stop by!" Joker said, pressing the knife a little harder against Robin's skin and resulting in a thin trickle of blood running down the boy's throat and a red cut on the boy's skin.

Gordon did a quick take of the boy. His head was bleeding badly, leaving a dark red tint that coated his hair and made it stick to his forehead with red streaks. Gordon could tell through the mask that he was keeping his left eye closed, and some blood stained the white of the left lens on his mask. The boy was carefully avoiding putting any pressure on his left leg and his right arm was limp, hanging uselessly by his side. Overall, he looked beaten, pained, and displeased. Through the right lens of Robin's mask Gordon could tell that the boy was giving him his best glare. If Robin had a problem with being saved, he would just have to deal with it.

"I'm here," Gordon said. Joker nodded.

"Indeed you are. Now, how about we play a game?!" Joker suddenly threw Robin to the side, the boy collapsing on the ground instantly as pressure was applied to his no doubt broken leg. Joker snapped and his two muscular goons came forward and began beating on the boy.

"You said you would let the boy go!" Gordon said angrily, stopping in his advance when Joker pulled a gun and pointed it down at the boy who was on the ground, attempting to fight back with his good arm and leg but failing miserably as the men continued to hit him with incredible force.

Joker laughed and snapped his fingers again. The two men looked at him as he pointed to Gordon, a large smile on his face. One of the men pulled a knife while the other brought out a club. They both stepped past the young Robin, leaving him panting on the floor as the two men approached Gordon.

James punched one of them in the jaw as they came at him. The other swept his knife at Jim, but he caught his wrist and twisted. Suddenly, a shot rang out and Gordon looked up to see that Joker had pointed the gun at him. Just as Joker had gone to fire, Robin managed to stumble and catch Joker by the arm, making the gun fall to the ground and the bullet go off somewhere into the night sky.

Gordon nocked one man out with an upward thrust to his jaw, all the time keeping an eye on Robin and Joker. Joker grabbed Robin by the neck and lifted him. Robin kicked out with his right leg, but his struggling was weak and useless. Joker casually skipped over to the edge of the building and held Robin over.

Gordon quickly struggled against his last attacker and knocked him to the ground besides the other goon. He turned and his eyes met Joker's, seeing intent to kill.

"Let him go," Gordon said sternly as Robin's breathing was hitched by Joker's strong hand against his throat. Robin had been struggling against that hand for over a minute now, and his struggles were growing worryingly weak. "Let him go," Gordon said with more intensity than before as Robin's gasps fell silent. Joker shook his head back and forth slowly.

"Bad choice of words." And then, Joker let go.

Robin would probably have screamed if he'd had the breath, but he didn't, so it didn't matter. Either way, he was suddenly falling. He took in a straggled breath or two.

Gordon ran to the edge and looked down as Robin fell. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as a dark figure suddenly streaked by the building, scooping the boy up and carrying him away. Gordon turned and watched as Joker jumped off the side of the building and into a helicopter.

"We'll continue this game next time!" Joker said with a maniacal laugh. Then he flew away, leaving Gordon to worry about the events that just occurred.

***.*.*.*.Line Break.*.*.*.***

Gordon worried for three days about the Joker until Batman got him on Thursday night. Robin wasn't there, and in fact Robin hadn't been seen any of those three days. The thirteen year old boy hadn't been seen by anyone in Gotham since the incident.

And so Gordon continued to worry about whether or not the boy was alright. A week after the incident he was curious and worried enough to actually ask Batman.

"So, where's your partner?" Gordon asked casually as he cuffed two thugs who had been lighting up the jewelry store chain. Batman looked at him for several long seconds. Gordon's words had let on more than he'd thought.

"You're… wondering about Robin," Batman responded darkly. He hadn't said it like it was a question, since Batman never really asks questions, but Gordon responded anyways.

"Um, yeah, well… the last time I saw him he wasn't exactly in the best shape. Is… he alright?" Batman stared at him again for a short time, then silently disappeared into the shadows.

_'Well, I guess he's no help,' _Gordon thought. _'Did I actually think he was going to tell me? Of course he wouldn't.'_

Gordon sighed and went back to the station. At about 4 AM he went home and tried to relax, still wondering where the Boy Wonder was.

That night he went to his room and shut the door. He stepped over to his drawers and took his glasses off. While he was holding them in his hands, a quiet _'tap, tap, tap' _made him jump and nearly drop them. He put them back on his face and turned quickly to his window where the taping noise had been produced. He walked over quickly and looked out, not at all knowing what to expect. _'It's probably just some kids throwing rocks,' _Gordon thought, but opened his window anyways and stuck his head out. He looked around a bit, down at the alley and to the sides. He didn't see anything, so he pulled back and turned around. He was walking back to his drawers when there was another set of tapping.

This time when he turned around there was a bright figure hanging up-side-down by a cord in his windowsill.

"Robin?! W-what… what are you doing here?" Gordon stammered in complete confusion.

"You asked Batman about me…" Robin said, his quiet voice drifting across the short distance between them. It was quiet and low, at least compared to Robin's usually cheery and loud voice. Gordon worried for a moment that maybe he wasn't alright, but he was reassured as a grin crossed the young boy's face. "Were you worried about me?" He asked, just as quietly as before.

Gordon stammered a few unknown words for some short seconds, then responded with a simple "Maybe."

Robin cackled and flipped himself to be right-side-up, then crouched on the windowsill. "You can, um, come in?" Gordon offered. Robin chuckled a little, then set his feet down on the floor inside the house. He leaned against the wall immediately to the right of the window, all this time remaining hidden by the shadows and his face remaining mostly unseen.

Gordon walked to the far wall and reached for the light switch. He paused when he heard Robin shift suddenly and make a strange, displeased noise not dissimilar to a moan. Gordon turned and looked at him for a moment and Robin looked just about ready to jump out the window if needed. "You won't leave just because I turn on the lights, will you?" Gordon asked with concern.

"Well, no…" Robin replied, so Gordon quickly flipped on the lights and walked back to the boy.

Robin was staring awkwardly at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. Gordon stared at him in shock for a few moments. Robin wasn't wearing a mask, but instead a pair of dark glasses. Surrounding the black lens was deep purple flesh and split skin. On his neck was still a line from where Joker had pressed the blade to his neck hard enough to cut. This line was surrounded by deep purple and maroon bruising from his throat being clasped so tightly by the madman. Robin's uniform, with its short sleeves and absent cape, revealed deep, dark purple bruising and some yellow ones all up and down his arms that stretched along his neck where it met with the hand-shaped bruising around his throat. There was a cast on his broken leg and bandage on his arm. Overall, he looked like he had been terribly beaten and had nearly met death. And, technically, he had, so…

"You look…"

"Like crap?" Robin finished. "Yeah, I know." Gordon looked at him sadly.

"Does it hurt badly?" Robin shook his head.

"No, it's fine."

Gordon snorted a response of "I doubt that." Robin chuckled slightly. "I'm glad that you're alright," Gordon said with a smile. "You give a lot to this city, don't you?" Robin nodded.

"My life, though I avoid it. I give as little as I can while still helping as much as I can. She takes more than I can handle alone sometimes."

"She?" Gordon wondered. Robin laughed for a moment or two.

"Batman calls the city a 'she' and I guess it's started to rub off on me. She breaks your heart sometimes, like many girls would do." Robin smiled sadly and Gordon couldn't help but wonder.

"How'd she break your heart?" Robin's smile disappeared, replaced by a sad grimace. As soon as it came though, it left, and he smiled again.

"It doesn't matter," was all he said about it. Gordon decided to let the subject die, it was wrong of him to ask in the first place, even if he felt he knew the boy better for it.

"Do you, want some coffee?" Gordon asked. "Or… does Batman let you drink coffee?"

"Hm… no, he doesn't generally. I have to be going anyways. I just wanted to stop by."

"You aren't fighting again tonight, are you?" Gordon asked in alarm.

"No, Batman won't let me," he said, almost pouting as he did so. Gordon nodded his understanding.

"Good. Take the time to rest, you look like you need it. Hang out with friends. You do have friends, right?" Robin laughed again.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't." He smiled sideways at the man and kept his secrets to himself.

"Well, I can't imagine you wouldn't," Gordon said with a slight head shake. Robin cocked his had sideways with a questioning look. The posture reminded Jim of a puppy, which was kind of adorable.

"Why do you think I have to have friends?" Robin asked curiously. Gordon chuckled.

"Because you're just like my daughter, always sticking her nose in where it doesn't belong. Always hanging out with friends, even when you're doing something important. Plus… I think you rely on all the people you know, don't you?" Robin blushed a little and looked away. "You have to have friends to support you. A lot of teens are that way." Robin laughed lightly at Gordon's words.

"I guess you know me better than I'd like," he said honestly. "Since when have you been paying attention?"

"Since five years ago when Batman brought a child into the city at night to fight dangerous criminals and stop crime. I'll admit that I didn't agree with him at first. I still think you were too young back then."

"I had to grow up at some point. I guess it just came sooner rather than later for me. Life's too short to waste, ya know?" Gordon nodded.

The Boy Wonder sighed one last time. "Listen, I really should get going. Batman is waiting for me in the Bat-Mobile so he can take me home." Gordon nodded.

"Then, I suppose I'll see you again when you fully recover."

"After I pester Batman enough for him to let me out we can maybe go on a mission together. See you later Commish." Robin cracked one more large smile before taking out his grappling hook and swinging away out the window.

_'He's a great kid,' _Gordon thought to himself while standing in his now empty room. _'Batman's somehow managed to raise him well.' _Gordon smiled and turned out the lights.

A/N: Hope you guys liked it! Thanks again to Therna Blakeheart for this idea! If anyone else has suggestions, you can tell me in a review or PM and maybe your suggestion will show up in here too. If you don't have a suggestion, you can still review!


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